


Save the last dance

by Salambo06



Series: Fic Giveaway [1]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Love at First Sight, M/M, Unilock, balletlock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-23
Updated: 2016-05-23
Packaged: 2018-06-10 05:54:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 937
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6942466
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Salambo06/pseuds/Salambo06
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"The red curtain opened slowly, frozen figures on the stage and a dim light illuminating them, and for a moment the entire audience held their breath. Then one of the dancers, standing in the middle of the stage, moved slowly, gracefully, and John found himself shivering."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Save the last dance

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is a commission for [johnnlocked ](http://johnnlocked.tumblr.com/) who wanted some balletlock, I hope you'll like it !  
> Thank you to [Heather](http://snogbox1.tumblr.com/) for her job as a beta !  
> [My Tumblr](http://letthechoirssing.tumblr.com/)

“Oh wonderful, we’re going to see the stage perfectly from here!” John’s mother exclaimed as she sat down, John taking the seat just next to her. 

John smiled at her before looking at the stage in front of them. They were quite close to it, and John could discern people moving around behind the closed curtain. His mother was settling next to him, already talking to the couple sitting on her other side and John couldn’t help but roll his eyes. He was glad he had proposed to take her out for Mother’s Day, insisting they could go anywhere she wanted to. She was worried about him, and John knew she needed some alone time with him before he had to leave again for Afghanistan.

“I can’t believe Susan managed to get us tickets for tonight,” she said, again, “I need to go thank her backstage afterward!”

“Is she dancing tonight?” John asked.

“Yes, but trust me, all these people are not here for her this time!”

John frowned, starting to notice the sudden crowded room, almost every seat taken now. John had never understood his mother’s passion for ballet. She went to recitals almost every month, and had since John was a child. She had tried to take him with her before, and for all he could remember, John mostly recalled being bored to death the entire time. But tonight wasn’t for him, and seeing his mother’s radiant grin made him smile too.

“Aren’t they? I thought she was pretty good?”

“Oh, she is,” his mother nodded, “she really is, but tonight is Sherlock Holmes’ first ballet, and everyone has been buzzing about him for the last year!”

“Sherlock Holmes?” John smiled, wondering for a moment what went through some parents’ head sometimes.

“Yes, he’s still in college and has been doing some recitals here and there, but this is his first time on such a stage,” she continued to explain, the excitement in her voice making John wonder what made this Sherlock so special. “We are very lucky to be here, John, thank you again.”

“I’m happy you li-”

John stopped as the light went off, the entire room suddenly dark and his mother pat his hand, smiling, before looking back at the stage. John settled more comfortably, getting ready for two hours of ballet. The conversation turned into whispers around him, a quiet murmur where John heard the same name again and again, before the first notes of music filled the room. The red curtain opened slowly, frozen figures on the stage and a dim light illuminating them, and for a moment the entire audience held their breath. Then one of the dancers, standing in the middle of the stage, moved slowly, gracefully, and John found himself shivering. The music was so low John could almost hear the slide of the dancer’s feet against the parquet as he turned on himself, one arm coming up until he was stopping again.

Suddenly, the entire stage came alive, dancers moving in unison as the music became louder and louder, filling the entire room, and John forced himself to focus until he found that first dancer again. There was something in the way he moved, in the way his entire body seemed to fly over the floor, that made it impossible to look away, and John felt as if the entire audience was watching only him. John sat forward on his seat, resting his elbows on his knees as he tried to watch him more closely. The man seemed so young on stage, his eyes closed as he swirled again. John let his eyes travel up and down his body, the dancer’s legs long and lean, his chest rising quickly with every breath he took, and John realised his own breaths were coming shorter and shorter. 

By the time the music became to fade, almost two hours later, John’s eyes were still fixed on the same dancer, Sherlock Holmes. His mother had fussed about him during the entire intermission, and John had only managed to nod his agreement. Even now, as the curtain began to close, Sherlock standing in the middle of the stage again, John found himself wishing the ballet could continue for hours. Loud applause filled the room, everyone standing up as the curtain opened again for the dancer to bow. John took advantage of these last minutes to observe Sherlock more closely. He was smiling, his hair damp with sweat and his eyes traveling all over the audience. For a moment, John was certain Sherlock looked directly at him, but the moment was gone before he could be sure, and soon the curtain was closing again, people starting to gather their things and go. 

“It was stunning,” John’s mother breathed out, “absolutely stunning.”

John hummed, “Didn’t you want to go see Susan backstage?”

“Oh yes! It’s this way.”

John followed quickly and made sure to look everywhere in case a certain dancer happened to be wandering around, but they found Susan quickly and John listened absently as his mother began to talk about the ballet. 

“Susan wants to show me something,” his mother said after a moment, “want to come inside her room?”

“I’ll wait here,” John replied, not giving up hope yet.

“I’ll be right back!”

John leaned against the nearest wall, teeth grazing at his lower lip as he scanned the people around him. He forced himself to close his eyes, taking a deep breath. He was being ridiculous, really. 

“Afghanistan or Iraq?” a deep voice asked and John smiled, somehow knowing who it belonged to before having to open his eyes.


End file.
